


She Has Seen Happiness

by Akumeoi



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: Character Study, Cooking, Drabble, Fluff, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 09:15:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17383832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akumeoi/pseuds/Akumeoi
Summary: Rei makes eggplant curry for her friends and muses on her progress in the culinary arts.





	She Has Seen Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> This was a gift for Grodanz on tumblr for NGE New Year. They asked for happy Rei, so this is a study of Rei's cooking inspired by _Evangelion 2.0 You Can (Not) Advance_ but set in a universe with no angels and no one dying!
> 
> The recipe in the fic can be found [ HERE](https://www.thespruceeats.com/japanese-curry-with-vegetables-2031011), if you'd like to make Rei's eggplant curry.
> 
> Four-song playlist for this fic: [Borderline Case](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8D3jtbsdjZM) ♥ [La Collectionneuse](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qhJGkVJCUO0) ♥ [Unlock The Lock](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qmcIE5Pp9V4) ♥ [Rapunzel](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K4MMX13-Gy8)
> 
> Comments always welcome!

Rei cores the yellow bell pepper with a steady hand and a careful eye. A large pot waits on the stove to be heated, while ¼ inch thick eggplant rounds, a thinly sliced onion, garlic, a medium carrot, and a packet of curry roux occupy the counter space. This is her first try at making vegetarian eggplant curry. Tonight she’ll cook it, and tomorrow, if it’s any good, she’ll spoon it into a large container, bring it to school, and see if she can get Shinji, and Asuka, and Kaworu to taste it.

It’s been a few months since Rei first started learning how to cook, inspired by Shinji’s kindness and a conversation with her caregiver. In that time she has come to learn the simple joys of preparing food. Rei likes the sensory feel of it – the rhythm of chopping, warm steam against her face, the blunt tastes of raw ingredients and the harmonious melodies of the end product, the smell of hot oil in the pan, the onions becoming transparent and dough browning before her. These sensations help ground her, and Rei has become mindful. It used to be that she would hurt herself by accident several times during the course of making just one dish, but she no longer goes to school with band-aids on her hands. Rei doesn’t quite know what to make of this, but she knows that she feels very _real_ these days – but she’s never been very good at putting words to her emotions.

After finishing with the peppers, Rei peels the carrot and cuts it into bite-sized pieces, just like the recipe says. With the pungent scent of garlic filling her nose, she heats a tablespoon of oil in the large pot and begins to sauté the garlic and onion. Rei enjoys following recipes. She appreciates how straightforward their guidance is. There’s no pressure on her to decide how a dish “should” be, yet at the same time she has complete control over which recipe to choose, and she can even alter the recipe if she feels like substituting an ingredient. It’s simultaneous freedom and security. If she follows the recipe correctly (and she very often does, now) then she’s guaranteed to produce something that at least one person out of her group of friends will eat.

And ultimately, she thinks as she stirs in the carrot with repetitive circular motions, then adds water and sets the pot to simmer, she _is_ doing this for her friends. In her mind she can see them all sitting around a table laden with dishes she made, smiling. This is something of a fantasy for her, but with every recipe she gets a little bit closer to making it real.

Food can make people happy – Rei has seen it. The first thing she brought to school was a simple batch of almond cookies. She had been strangely hesitant to show people the new skills she had secretly been working on – but it had been time, hadn’t it? The cookies had turned out perfectly. As Shinji and Kaworu ate, she watched them intently for any signs of distaste or disgust, for signs her cookies were imperfect – but all she had seen were smiles. Asuka, too, she watched, because although Asuka is loud about her opinions not everything her mouth says aligns perfectly with what she really feels.

And when Rei saw how Asuka’s eyes were smiling, she felt an indescribable warmth. Bringing others joy through cooking allows her to participate in their happiness, to be a part of it as its orchestrator but also somehow to derive her own from it. The process of emotional transference from one person to another is a mystery to Rei. Is happiness contagious, like a disease? She doesn’t know, but she does know that the origin of its generation somehow is here, in her kitchen.

She’s sautéing the eggplant and the pepper now, and her ears fill with the snap and sizzle of hot oil. The next step will be to dissolve the curry roux to make a flavourful soup. Then it will be just a few more minutes of simmering and the curry will be done, and Rei will be able to taste it. She dearly hopes that it will be delicious. Each dish, perfect or imperfect, adds a sensory stroke of colour to the formerly grey canvas that is Rei’s existence. Each dish that turns out well puts a smile on the face of Shinji, or Kaworu, or Asuka.

Rei is becoming changed. She can’t quite articulate how – but she does know this: that food is good, that life can be colourful, that she wants to be close to people, and that her feelings will one day have a name. And when they do, there are worlds and worlds awaiting her.


End file.
